Special K - The Ghey

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Those were the days, back in the days when the Americunts loved me. Back in the days when I was a wrestler.' Special K' I was known as, because I am Special and me name is Knudsen, get it? That was before special was a nickname for a mong and before the fucking cereal company that took me to court and forced me to stop using the name, I even came up with a merger idea, Old Knudsen kicks the shite out of you, Special K shites the shite out of you, but no, they ended up going for female models showing their front pussies to entice morons to buy it. You can see in this photo I was in me prime with both legs and firm man titties. I could get the fucking fatties to buy the cereal now, just look at me, I'm 90% muscle and 20% charm, fucking buy it you fat shites, and soon you could look like me. A lost chance for the company to be sure, and where are they now?

I've fought and destroyed Wrestlers like, Bomber Harris, Pee Wee Sherman and The Bridgeport Fister, I was a champion, just me on my own was a tag team, they knew they were going to get hurt when they enter my ring, "enter my ring at yer peril" I would say to them and they would giggle nervously I suppose you could describe it.I tried to get more than one at a time into my ring,"c'mon ya pansies I can take 5 of yous at once , I'm a real man".

My classic move would be the money shot, then I would rip their ass apart, if you think its fake then look at all the blood as I pounded away, the ring would be slippery and covered in blood but that's the way I like it.

Boys all over Europe and even in the States practiced the money shot, I was a sort of hero, my move has even been featured in many movies, I never received any residuals for it but I don't mind the fame and the glory was enough for me, like a modern day Gladiator.

When I had to change my name because of the court case everything changed. Me as the Fighting Fogey never drew in the crowds, a fickle lot Blog readers, er I mean Wrestling fans. I'd lost in court and they just didn't want to know anymore.

In case you're wondering, its ok to wear weemens panties as Wrestling shorts as long as you smash yer enemies and get drunk before and after the battle so I brought pride to my fine fag following. I was a little worried that they made my ass look big though.

Predator On The Run

A shallow debaser, a ghey fool amongst fools, a shadow searching for the sun before I can exist. America hates me, I hate me, everyone hates me. It sucks being a Knudsen, just ask my mom., An outcast, a mongrel, a trash monkey, a jizz hound. I eat, speak and mix pure crap. Lounge lizards look down upon me, I am homosexual and proud, I am the world famous Old Knudsen thrown out of the, United States

Special Thanks

My special thanks to the Port Authority, Ellis Island, NYPD, Philip Morris, Colonel Sanders, Gilligan and the Skipper, the guy who invented ghey pornography, the hairy legged washed up B movie star who lives upstairs, and of course his royal highness Pope John-Paul III. No thanks however to Uncle Sam and all those assholes at City Hall who deported me for the minor offense of molestation in the subway. Thank you to the Romanian / Peruvian/ Australian / British / American / Serbian army for training me in the deadly arts of Special Farces, self-rimming and making me a deadly keeler. Thank you to Barry's Tea, Tayto crisps and Arthur Guinness. A special thanks to my right hand for now being my only companion. I love you too Lefty, but not quite as much. Thank you to MJ for introducing me to hordes of her dried up lesbian pen-pals and the smell of her gas. I now have more stored gas fragrances than Estee Lauder. But most of all, thank you to me. Without Knudsen the world would be shittier than a Harlem crapper after a half eaten bucket of greasy fried chicken. Duller than a blog dedicated purely to kittens and horses. Worse than the Beatles animated car-tune movie, and lastly, more lonely than an ageing female Canadian blogger.